


Differences

by impalagirl, wilddragonflying



Series: Roleplays [32]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Oblivious!Derek, oblivious!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 03:45:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4506507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalagirl/pseuds/impalagirl, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilddragonflying/pseuds/wilddragonflying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>After the shitstorm with the nogitsune was finally solved, Malia started hanging out with Stiles-- and by "hanging out," she meant they fucked like bunnies every night that she could sneak into his room. Sex was <i>amazing</i>, she'd come to discover.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Tonight, for instance, had started with Stiles attempting to tutor her-- a task that Malia had quickly derailed in favor of something she was actually interested in. Afterwards, Malia sat up, stretching and heaving a sigh of satisfaction. "Man, that was fun," she said happily.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>”Um, yeah, <i>fun</i>," Stiles said, sitting up gingerly. It was a good job he didn't like sleeping on his back, that was all he was saying.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Differences

After the shitstorm with the nogitsune was finally solved, Malia started hanging out with Stiles-- and by "hanging out," she meant they fucked like bunnies every night that she could sneak into his room. Sex was _amazing_ , she'd come to discover.

Tonight, for instance, had started with Stiles attempting to tutor her-- a task that Malia had quickly derailed in favor of something she was actually interested in. Afterwards, Malia sat up, stretching and heaving a sigh of satisfaction. "Man, that was fun," she said happily.

”Um, yeah, _fun_ ," Stiles said, sitting up gingerly. It was a good job he didn't like sleeping on his back, that was all he was saying. He was also really glad that Malia had yet to realise that she could hear when people lied; it made the pillowtalk so much easier. "So, did you still want to work on that math, or..?"

Malia hummed thoughtfully before shaking her head. "Nah. It's getting late, Dad's gonna be wondering where I am. We should do this again."

"Umm, yeah," Stiles said. "Sure. If you want." A flash of inspiration came to him, though, and he was quick to add, "Don't feel like you have to come here, though - it's totally fine if you want to... hang out, with other people."

Malia tilted her head, confused. "O... kay?" she said, a little bemused.

”I'm just saying," Stiles said, trying for casual and missing it by several miles. "This doesn't have to be an exclusive kind of deal. Unless... you think it is?"

Malia thought about that for a moment. "I don't know. I guess I never thought about it."

"Well, think about it," Stiles encouraged.

"Okay, sure," Malia agreed easily. "See you tomorrow, Stiles."

Stiles sighed. "Sure."

* * *

The next day, Stiles decided that enough was enough. This thing with Malia felt _weird_ , and he didn't want to suffer in silence anymore. He and Scott had already arranged to hang out after school, so Stiles took the opportunity to express his worries to his best friend. "Hey man, can I talk to you about something?" he asked once they'd shut Scott's bedroom door behind them.

Scott nodded. "Of course, dude. What's on your mind?"

Naturally, now that he had his chance, Stiles had no idea what he actually wanted to say. "So, Malia's kind of been coming over a lot lately..."

Scott looked at Stiles interestedly. "Really? I thought you two smelled like each other."

”We've been having sex," he admitted. "But it's... I don't know."

Scott frowned. "It's sex; what's wrong with that?"

"Well, this, for one," Stiles said. He turned around and lifted his shirt up, letting Scott see the deep scratches Malia had left on his back last night.

Scott felt his eyebrows rise. "Damn. She really gets into it, huh?"

"You could say that," Stiles said, facing Scott again. "It's... I'm not sure I like it."

Scott frowned in confusion. "What's not to like? You're having sex with a really hot chick who's really into you."

"Yeah, but..." Stiles huffed. "What if I'm not into her?"

"Then tell her," Scott answered like it was the simplest thing in the world.

”Yeah, because it's that easy," Stiles said, looking down. "Scott, she doesn't understand. She just comes over and she takes and then she leaves, and I tried to tell her last night that we should see other people, but she was having none of it. She just said she'd be back tonight."

Scott's frown deepened. "You wanna spend the night here, then?"

Stiles sighed. "She'd turn up eventually."

Well, if Stiles didn't want to stay... "Fair enough. Wanna play Halo?"

Stiles blinked. "Sure."

* * *

After that, things seemed to go on as normal-- Stiles was a little distant, maybe, but everyone was what with the coming midterms. It didn't strike Scott as odd, but it did Derek when, at the next pack meeting, Stiles was noticeably quieter. Derek managed to catch him in the kitchen, resting a hand on the teenager's shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

Stiles flinched away from Derek, barely managing to hide a wince of pain. "Yeah," he lied. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Stiles said again. "Why, what's up with you?"

"Nothing," Derek said after a moment. "If you ever want to talk, though, I'll listen."

Stiles sighed. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Hey." Derek swatted Stiles gently upside the head, more to get him to actually look at Derek and listen than anything. "I mean it-- you're pack, and no matter what, I'm here for you, okay?"

"Okay," Stiles said, but he didn't sound convinced. "Thanks, man."

Derek watched Stiles leave the kitchen, a small frown on his face-- a frown which deepened when Malia showed up and promptly settled in next to Stiles. Stiles's scent immediately soured with anxiety, and only got worse the longer Malia stayed next to him.

Stiles was definitely more than uncomfortable, but he couldn't say anything without drawing unwanted attention and the pleading looks he kept sending Scott were being ignored. Malia had been not-so-subtly sliding her hand up his thigh for some time now, and when she actually dug her claws into his skin he jumped up. "Gotta pee," he announced, and all but ran from the room.

 _That_ was certainly not normal couple behavior. Derek, who'd been hovering by the kitchen door, slid into Stiles's vacated seat beside Malia. "There's a limit to acceptable public behavior. You're making Stiles uncomfortable."

Malia blinked once before scowling. "What, no, I'm not. He's my boyfriend."

”Pay attention to his scent," Derek advised. "If he's uncomfortable, it'll be sour. A relationship isn't all about one person."

When Stiles came back, the room felt unusually tense, and a couple of people were looking at him curiously. The rest weren't looking at him at all. "What'd I miss?"

Derek shrugged, getting up from his seat casually. "Just something I said," he answered; it wasn't even a lie. "Told them about slamming your head into the steering wheel and _why_."

Stiles blushed and resumed his seat. "I thought we agreed not to talk about that," he complained. "That story is as just as embarrassing for you as it is for me."

"No, it's aggravating," Derek disagreed. "But kind of funny, in hindsight."

"I told Danny that your name was Miguel," Stiles protested. "And made you change your shirt a bunch of times so he could check you out."

"You pimped me out because you knew he was gay and would help you because it would mean hanging around me," Derek argues. "You're such a Slytherin."

"And proud of it," Stiles said, sticking his tongue out at Derek. "I make a great snake."

"You definitely _have_ a great snake," Malia piped up - and just like that it was weird again.

Derek wanted to growl at Malia, because dammit Stiles had just gotten comfortable, and now his scent had soured again. He settled for sending her a pointed look instead.

Stiles was grateful for Derek's efforts, but Malia seemed oblivious. Of course. Stiles didn't say much for the rest of the evening.

* * *

It wasn't until a few days later that Derek heard from Stiles again; the teenager called him, which was odd. Usually he just texted. Still, Derek answered as soon as he read the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Hey, Derek," Stiles said haltingly, "it's Stiles." He nearly bit his own tongue off. Could he sound any more awkward?

"Hey," Derek said, keeping his voice light and casual. "What's up?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to hang out? Like tonight?"

"Sure," Derek agreed. It was a little before six, and Derek was getting hungry. "You wanna grab some food, come over here?"

"Uh, yeah," Stiles agreed, kind of amazed that Derek had said yes. "Yeah, that sounds great. I'll be, like, half an hour?"

"Sounds good. Grab me a chicken sandwich, please. I'll get Netflix set up."

"The key to my heart," Stiles laughed, and hung up.

* * *

True to his word, Stiles showed up about half an hour after he hung up. Derek already had _Daredevil_ queued up on Netflix, and made grabby hands at the bag of take out that smelled fucking delicious. "Did you stop by the diner?"

"Yup," Stiles said, handing the bag over. "I got what you asked for, and a few other things. You can help yourself."

"You're awesome," Derek said happily, tearing the wrapping off his sandwich and taking a bite, moaning in satisfaction. "Pick a seat," he mumbled around a mouthful of chicken, bread, lettuce, and tomato. "Remote's on the coffee table."

Stiles flopped down onto the sofa, a little awed by how relaxed and open Derek seemed. Although maybe that was just because of the food. " _Daredevil_?" he asked as he picked up the remote. "I've heard good things about this."

Derek nodded, swallowing his mouthful. "So've I," he replied. "Figured we could at least make a start on it."

"Awesome." Stiles hit play, and he was grinning as he pulled the bag of food towards him and started in on his own meal.

* * *

Stiles took to hanging out at Derek's place a lot after that. Obviously he couldn't spend every night there, and he had to come home eventually, but he enjoyed spending time with Derek and doing so certainly served its purpose. At least one night a week he didn't have to worry about Malia climbing in through his window and having her wicked way with him.

At least, until she got wise to what he was up to. Stiles spent a particularly wild and painful few hours with Malia one night a few weeks after he and Derek first started watching _Daredevil_ together, and the following evening he was back at Derek's. It was the third time this week, but Stiles was prepared to do anything in order to avoid a repeat performance. Which was why he completely ignored his phone when Malia called him, along with the incredulous look Derek gave him when the call finally went to voicemail. And that should have been the end of it.

Until Derek's phone rang less than a minute later.

Derek had a sinking feeling he knew who was calling, and sure enough it was his cousin on the other end of the line when he picked up. "What do you want, Malia?" he asked, just a bit sharper than he'd intended.

"Have you seen Stiles?" Malia asked without preamble. "Is he with you? He's smelled like you a lot lately."

Derek glanced over at Stiles before answering carefully, "We've been hanging out a lot, yeah. A new Marvel series came out on Netflix and we've been watching that."

"So is he there now?" Malia pressed. "'Cause I can come over."

" _No_ ," Derek said sharply. "Yes, he's here. No, you cannot come over-- and I will ring myself in here with mountain ash if I have to to keep you out. You are not invited; this is just me and Stiles hanging out."

"What the hell, Derek?" Malia whined. "He's _my_ boyfriend, you know, not yours. But fine. Tell him I'll see him later, if you ever let him leave." And she hung up.

When Derek put his phone down, Stiles was staring at him with a mixture of awe and fear. "What the fuck was that?" he asked weakly.

Derek shrugged, flushing. "She needs to learn boundaries. And she wasn't invited here; she tried to invite herself over without even considering that this is still my loft, my den, for lack of better word. I invited you here, and I let the pack come over sometimes for pack nights, but otherwise..." It wasn't a _complete_ lie; it just wasn't the whole truth. Derek wanted Stiles to have a safe place; he still hadn't really said anything about his relationship with Malia, but Derek wasn't going to push him on it. All he could do was offer Stiles a place to retreat to if he needed.

Stiles was still a little taken aback, but he shrugged. "Seems fair," he said. "I wasn't really in the mood to see her anyway." He rolled his eyes. "Women, man."

Derek just hummed noncommittally, making a note to visit Deaton the next day. Aloud, he said, "You're welcome to stay the night, if you want."

Again, Stiles was amazed. He was even on the cusp of accepting Derek's offer, before he remembered himself. His dad wouldn't be happy about it, and Malia definitely wouldn't. "Thanks, man, but I'd better not," he said. "I gotta be there in the morning to make sure my dad doesn't use the bacon for his breakfast."

Derek nodded. "Fair enough. Offer stands, though." He picked up the remote and lifted it questioningly, finger hovering over the play button.

Stiles smiled. "I guess one more won't hurt."

* * *

Barely a week later, Stiles showed up at Derek's loft, smelling more anxious than ever and-- unless Derek was mistaken-- in a decent bit of pain. That was the first time that Stiles stayed the night at Derek's place, sleeping on the (rather surprisingly comfortable) couch and staying only for a quick breakfast before he had to get back to his own house-- his house where Malia was waiting for him. "Were you at Derek's last night?" she demanded as soon as he walked in the door.

"Jesus Christ," Stiles hissed. "Does my dad know you're here, or did you just break in like you normally do?"

"You're dad's at the station," Malia said dismissively. "And you didn't answer my question."

"Yes, I was at Derek's last night," Stiles snapped. "So what?'

"So, you're _my_ boyfriend, not his!" Malia snarled back. "I came over here to see you last night-- like I've been trying to do for _weeks_ , and almost every night I come over, you're at his place! I miss you."

"Malia, we've spent plenty of time together lately," Stiles said. "Being your boyfriend doesn't mean I have to be with you all the time. I have other friends, like Derek, that I want to spend time with, too."

"You don't spend this much time with Scott," Malia pointed out petulantly. "Or anyone else."

"I would if Scott had the time," Stiles argued. "He's our alpha; he's busy a lot. And Derek needs a friend, I think." That was a lot more honest than he'd intended to be, but he realised as he said the words that they were true. Stiles wasn't the only member of the pack who felt lonely, isolated.

"Well, Derek can go make friends with someone else," Malia spat, jealousy flaring in her chest. "You're _my_ boyfriend."

Stiles sighed. "I _know_ that, but I can't be with you all the time!"

Malia snarled, frustrated. "I feel like he's stealing you!" she blurted. "You smell more like him than you ever do of me, now-- you _reek_ of him whenever we have sex!"

Stiles blinked. "Is that why you get so..." _violent_ "rough?" he asked.

"I feel like you're his," Malia said softly. "Or at least, the... other me does. I know you wouldn't cheat on me, but it's hard to remember that when you smell so much like him."

She'd backed him into a corner, and they both knew it. Stiles sighed. "I'm sorry," he said. "I don't mean to make you feel like that. I'll stay away from him."

Malia offered Stiles a grateful smile. "Thanks. I'll try to stay a bit more in control; I've been working with Scott and Deaton on that."

It wasn't like Stiles could tell. "I appreciate it."

* * *

Derek's conversation with Deaton bore fruit, and a few days later the system was in place. Derek invited Stiles over, and showed him what Deaton had installed: a near-complete ring of mountain ash that could be completed with a lever. "Now the loft can be used as a safe place for everyone," he said, pleased. "We can keep threats out or work damage control."

"That's really cool," Stiles said, smiling. "And weres can operate the lever even though you can't manipulate the ash directly?"

Derek nodded, pointing to a piece of the floorboard that was pushed out. "The lever pulls that in, completing the ring."

"I'm impressed," Stiles admitted. "This is a great idea. Scott is gonna lose his shit."

Derek grinned, pleased. "We had a similar system in our house, when my family... I never told Kate about that, though. She had to do it the old-fashioned way. But until her, just knowing that we could keep anything out if we needed to... It meant a lot."

"I get that," Stiles said, nodding.

"Also, I wanted to give you this." Derek picked up an envelope, handing it to Stiles.

"What is this?" Stiles asked, fingers dancing along the envelope, squeezing here and there. "It feels like..."

Derek rolled his eyes, smiling fondly. "Open it."

So Stiles did. "It's a key," he said, his stomach dropping. "A key to... this place?"

Derek nodded, studying Stiles's expression carefully. "I figured since you pick the lock half the time you might as well have a key."

Stiles looked away. "I... won't be doing that anymore," he said.

Derek frowned. "Why not?" He'd thought that they'd started becoming friends, not just people who saved each other's hides.

"I can't come here anymore," Stiles answered, hating himself - and Malia, just a little. "At least, not enough that I'd need a key. I'll still come to pack meetings."

Derek tilted his head. "Malia," he guessed. He was quiet for a moment, before nodding to himself and saying, "Keep the key. Just in case you need a safe place to crash and I'm not here; you won't have to waste time picking the lock."

"Are you sure?" Stiles asked.

Derek nodded. "I'm sure."

Stiles bit his lip. "Thanks," he said. "And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Derek offered Stiles a reassuring smile. "Hey, I meant it when I said I want this to be a safe place for everyone. You're always welcome here."

Stiles nodded, grateful. "I should get back."

"Sure. See you around, Stiles."

* * *

Derek didn't see much of Stiles or Malia for the next few weeks. Didn't stop him from being concerned, but he had nothing to go on except his own suspicions-- so really, he had no right to interfere. Stiles didn't use his key until the morning after the next full moon; _early_ morning.

Derek was woken by the sound of the door opening; he'd only just drifted off. The scent of _Stiles_ hit him, then _pain_. "Stiles?" Derek called, throwing a t-shirt on over his boxers and darting down the stairs. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Stiles said, but it was weak and obviously a lie; he wouldn't be here if he was okay. "No. I don't know."

Closer, Derek could also smell the scent of Malia and sex; it made him angry, because it couldn't be a coincidence that Stiles smelled of all those scents at the same time. Still, he throttled it down in favor of guiding Stiles to the couch after locking the loft door, throwing the lever down just in case. He could feel the mountain ash settle in place, and knew it'd worked. "Here, let's get your shirt off, okay?"

Stiles nodded and lifted the hem of his shirt, wincing. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't stop the bleeding." The shirt came off at last, taking the layer of dried blood that had settled over some of the lesser scratches with it, and Stiles couldn't help but cry out.

Derek immediately sapped some of the pain before grabbing the first aid kit from a cabinet. "What happened?" he asked softly as he started cleaning the wounds, drawing away as much of the pain as he could. 

"It was the full moon, I think," Stiles said, his eyes drifting shut in relief as the pain eased at last. "She got a bit... excited."

Derek was quiet for a few minutes before asking, "Is it just on the full moon?"

Stiles opened his mouth to lie and then closed it, looking down. 

Derek sighed softly, suspicions confirmed. He didn't say anything at first though, focusing on tending to Stiles's wounds. When he was done, he drained the last of the pain for the moment and then moved so he was facing Stiles directly. "Have you said anything to her about how rough she's being?" he asked gently. 

"She said that she's working on it," Stiles answered. "It hasn't been so bad since I stopped coming here so much. But the full moon must have made it harder for her to stay in control."

"Don't make excuses," Derek said firmly. "Look, Stiles... You don't seem happy with Malia. You're always tense and anxious when you're in the same space."

Stiles flinched. "That's not... She's my girlfriend. You think I'd be with her if I didn't want to be?"

"I think you're not as happy as you're trying to say you are," Derek said carefully. "Stiles, I know what an abusive relationship is like. Malia's not Kate, she's not doing any of this on purpose. But if she's trying to control you, and doesn't pay attention to you and your needs, that's still abuse."

"No it isn't," Stiles snapped, pulling away from Derek. "She isn't abusing me, Derek, she just gets carried away sometimes. You don't understand."

Derek sighed. "Getting 'carried away' would have been excuse for the first month or two of her being human after eight years of being a coyote. It's been nearly eight months, Stiles. She's still getting 'carried away' because you're not trying to tell her it's not okay. Or if you are, she isn't taking you seriously."

"So I'm weak, now?" Stiles asked. "Poor itty bitty human Stiles, he can't even make a girl _stop_ when he--" His voice broke.

Derek reached out, pulling Stiles gently into a hug. "That's not what I meant, and you know it," he said quietly. "This situation is _not_ your fault, and you are not to blame for Malia's actions."

"I should be able to stop her, though," Stiles said desperately. "If I really didn't like it, I'd stop her."

Derek was quiet for a moment before he confessed, "I thought the same thing."

Stiles closed his eyes. "It's not the same," he whispered. "It can't be."

"I never wanted to go past kissing-- I lived in a house full of werewolves-- but Kate pressured me. After I gave in the first time, she never gave me a chance to stop," Derek said quietly. "It doesn't matter if it's intentional or not, if you're not comfortable with something your partner is doing and your partner does not regularly check with you - _especially_ since anxiety and uneasiness are very distinctive and unpleasant smells; Malia should know that something is wrong - then at best it's neglect or ignorance."

"Maybe there's something wrong with me, though," Stiles mused. "I'm _supposed_ to like it. Even Scott said--"

"Fuck what Scott said," Derek said sharply. "If you don't like it, then you don't like it. There's no 'supposed to' about it."

"How long have I been whining about wanting to get laid?" Stiles asked. "And when it finally happens, when someone finally wants me, I can't stomach it. Do you know when it happened for the first time?"

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to have sex _and_ fully enjoy it," Derek countered. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Stiles met Derek's gaze. He'd never told anyone this before, but he'd never talked about any of this stuff until tonight. "It was in Eichen House," he confessed. "I lost my virginity in a mental institution, when I wasn't even in full control of my own body."

Derek sucked in a breath, his hold on Stiles tightening just a bit. "Thank you for telling me," he says. "I'm sorry it happened that way."

"You're not the only one," Stiles said tiredly. "Whenever I look at her, that's all I see. That night. Through _his_ eyes."

There's not a whole Derek can say to that, so he just held Stiles and rubbed his back and shoulder comfortingly. After several long moments, he suggested, "Maybe you should talk to Malia about this. Make sure she knows exactly how you feel."

"I don't think she'd understand," Stiles admitted. "I don't think she'll stop."

Derek didn't hesitate before offering, "Do you want me there with you to talk to her?"

Stiles did hesitate, but he knew the answer. "I think so."

Derek rubbed Stiles's shoulder reassuringly. "Then I'll be there," he promised. 

Stiles sighed his relief into Derek's chest. "Thank you."

* * *

It took a few days, but eventually Stiles brought Malia to Derek's place; they'd decided on it as the best place in case something went wrong, and it was the most neutral place capable of withstanding a pissed and/or upset were. "Hey, Malia," Derek greeted. "Stiles and I wanted to talk to you."

Stiles appreciated what Derek was trying to do, but he also figured that he should take some responsibility for this. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you. But I asked Derek to be here, just in case."

Malia frowned. "What do you need to tell me that _he_ needs to be here for?"

"I just think he might be able to help," Stiles said. Almost as an afterthought, he added, "He is your cousin, you know. You could be nicer to him."

Malia bared her teeth at Derek, who simply raised an eyebrow. "I was a coyote for eight years; I didn't know him before."

Derek sighed, deciding to cut this line of conversation short. "Look, Malia, remember what I told you about making Stiles uncomfortable during pack meetings, and how you need to pay attention to him and his scent?"

"Yeah?" Malia responded, frowning.

"You haven't been doing that."

"You've been hurting me," Stiles added. "When we've been sleeping together."

Malia's expression switched to confusion. "What are you talking about? You like it when we have sex."

Stiles glanced at Derek. "No, I don't, Malia," he confessed. 

His heartbeat was steady, which meant... "What-- Why?"

"I don't know how to explain it," Stiles admitted. "It's complicated. Our first time was... less than ideal, and since then I've felt kind of trapped. Like I was supposed to like it, so I couldn't say otherwise."

"But-- But Scott said..."

”Scott's not your boyfriend," Derek said gently. "Stiles is. No matter what, sex is supposed to be something that _both_ parties enjoy."

"I know it's hard to understand," Stiles said. "I haven't been being fair to you; I shouldn't have let you think that I liked it. I just didn't know what to do."

Malia felt lost, and glanced at Derek helplessly. The older were got to his feet, moving to lay a hand on Malia's shoulder. "I understand that you only have eight months of human experience, but you should still have realized Stiles was uncomfortable. He's been upset and lost for months now."

"Stiles--"

"I really like you, Malia," Stiles interrupted her. "I care about you. But, not the way I should. I think it might be best if we were just friends from now on."

Malia made a hurt noise, but didn't protest. "I'm sorry," she whispered. 

Stiles gave her a sad smile. "So am I."

* * *

Less than twenty four hours later, Stiles was not even remotely surprised to find Scott on his doorstep. What he was surprised about was how angry he looked. "Umm, are you okay, buddy?" he asked, eyes wide.

"What the hell, dude, you broke up with Malia because she got a little rough during sex?" Scott demanded. 

Stiles stepped back to allow Scott into the house. "It was a little more complicated than that."

"How much more complicated?" Scott asked. "This is going to seriously fuck with her control, man."

"Well, being with her was seriously fucking with my head, man," Stiles said. "I couldn't do it anymore."

"'Fucking with your head'?" Scott echoed, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"She's been ripping me to shreds every time we have sex," Stiles said. "Sex that I didn't want to have."

Scott blinked. "Are you saying... Are you saying she _raped_ you?"

"No!" Stiles cried, frustrated. "I _wanted_ it, or at least part of me did; I participated, didn't I? But that was mostly because I felt like I was supposed to; because I knew that Malia had certain expectations after the first time, and I didn't want to let her down. The first time, though, that's... That was different."

Scott was beginning to see that maybe he should have been paying more attention these past few months. "What do you mean?"

"Malia doesn't know," Stiles warned. "Whatever I say here, you can't tell her, okay? She didn't know what she was doing."

Scott hesitated. "Shouldn't we teach her, then?"

"Not this," Stiles said. "Teach her that consent is important, absolutely, but she can't know what really happened in Eichen House."

"What did happen, then?"

"I was possessed," Stiles said bluntly. "When we had sex for the first time, I wasn't in control. And if I had been, it wouldn't have happened."

 _That_ took Scott aback. "I knew you two had slept together then, but-- Stiles, I had no idea."

"Derek's the only other person who knows," Stiles admitted quietly.

Scott felt horrified. "I'm so sorry, Stiles. If I'd known--"

"It's okay," Stiles said tiredly. "But do you understand why I had to break it off?"

"Yeah, I do," Scott said. "I don't blame you. I'll talk to Malia."

"Thanks," Stiles said, his shoulders sagging in relief. "But I meant what I said. She can't know about that first time."

"I won't tell her," Scott promised. 

Stiles managed a smile. "Thanks, man."

* * *

Unfortunately, while Scott _did_ keep his promise to not tell anyone, he hadn't made any such promises about his own behavior, which changed dramatically. Scott started treating Stiles like he was fractured glass, ready to break at the slightest rough treatment-- and Derek could see how it influenced the rest of the pack, even subconsciously. They started treating Stiles more carefully; the betas didn't roughhouse with him the way they used to, even the humans treated him differently. It was wearing on Stiles, Derek could tell.

After a week or two of this, Stiles showed up at the loft. He barged past Derek as soon as the older man had opened the door; Derek shut it, turning to watch Stiles pace and mutter angrily. "What's up?"

"I'm sick of it!" Stiles hissed. "I told Scott because he's my _brother_ and I needed him to know, even if he couldn't understand, but he's just-- he's fucking everything up!"

Derek motioned for Stiles to sit on the couch while he grabbed them both sodas. "I've noticed," he said, handing Stiles one of the bottles. "Have you said anything to him?"

"What am I supposed to say?" Stiles asked. "'Please forget everything I told you because you're making it worse'?"

"Maybe not that first part," Derek conceded. "But you should tell him that you don't like the way he's treating you now."Stiles sighed. "I suppose so. I just don't want to hurt his feelings, I guess? He's trying so hard, he's just... failing."

"And that's hurting you," Derek finished gently.

Stiles sighed. "I'll talk to him," he promised. "But in the meantime, can I hang out here for a bit?"

"Of course," Derek answered with a smile. "Want to watch a movie?"

Stiles grinned gratefully. "Sounds perfect."

Stiles did talk to Scott, but while his and the pack's behaviour improved a little, Stiles still found himself seeking out Derek's company over anyone else's. They didn't talk about Malia, and they definitely didn't talk about Kate, but it was nice to know that they _could_ if they wanted to. Derek would never judge him for anything that he said on the matter, and Stiles hoped Derek knew that that worked both ways. He thought he did.

That didn't mean he wanted to push the subject, though. More and more, it was starting to mean that he wanted Derek to never have to think about it again, at least not in a way that caused him pain. So Stiles made sure to fill his time with Derek with good things, like good movies and great food and a lot of laughter. It would be arrogant of Stiles to think that he could be the one to help Derek to patch himself up, but Derek was definitely doing the same for Stiles without even knowing it, so whatever Stiles could do in return was absolutely worth it.

Derek relished the time they spent together-- perhaps a bit more than he should. He cared about Stiles, had for a while, but the more time they spent together, the more Derek came to care about the human, until one day he realized that he didn't just care about Stiles as a friend, he cared about Stiles as... more. He'd known for a while now that Stiles was becoming his anchor, but it wasn't uncommon for anchors to be close friends.

What was _more_ common was for an anchor to be a lover, or someone that the wolf was in love with.

Which left Derek in an awkward position; part of him wanted to tell Stiles how he felt, what Stiles meant to him, but the other part felt like that would be putting too much pressure on Stiles, and would make things more awkward and tense than they needed to be between the two. More and more often, Derek had to remind himself that Stiles only saw him as a friend, that he considered Derek and the loft his safe place.

That didn't stop Derek from wanting more.

* * *

"Okay!" Stiles cried, bursting into Derek's loft one Saturday afternoon with his arms full of wires. "You've been a miserable bastard all week, and I'm bored of it now. I've brought my PlayStation, we're gonna play _Mortal Combat_ , you're gonna love it." He looked back to see Derek still standing by the open door, his lips slightly parted. "Come on. Move your ass."

Derek shut the loft door, making his way over to the couch. "Okay?" he said, confused. "You should know that I haven't played video games in years, though."

"Which is why I picked something old and easy," Stiles answered as he knelt in front of the TV. "And no pressure whatsoever, but if you get the sudden urge while I'm kicking your ass to tell me why you keep looking at me like I stabbed your puppy in the face, then feel free."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Gory metaphor," he commented, picking up one of the controls and studying it to hide whatever might be on his face; had he really been that obvious?

“It was a simile, actually.” Stiles sighed and sat back on his heels. "Like I said, no pressure. If you just want to play, then we'll play - but if you want to talk, I'm here."

Derek nodded, taking the controller Stiles handed him. "I-- thanks. I'll tell you... eventually. I don't really know..."

"It's fine," Stiles assured him. "Whatever you need, man."

They played several rounds of the game until Derek felt himself relaxing-- relaxing a little too much as it turned out. When they paused the game, the figures froze in a ridiculous pose, and both of them busted out laughing, leaning into each other for support; when the laughter subsided, Derek looked to Stiles, finding the younger man's face only inches from him. His breath caught in his throat, and he couldn't help the way his gaze dipped to Stiles's lips, wetting his own.

The movement drew Stiles' attention, and _Jesus Christ_ , the things seeing Derek's tongue dragging along his lower lip did to him shouldn't be legal. "Derek," he breathed, even as he closed the distance between them.

One of them whimpered-- Derek thought it might have been him-- and Derek tilted his head, bringing one hand up to cup Stiles's jaw, angling Stiles so that their lips slotted together perfectly, and Derek sighed, deepening the kiss for another moment before he pulled back.

Stiles' mind was spinning, his heart soaring, and when he opened his eyes he gave Derek a bemused little smile. "Shit, Derek, I had no idea," he breathed.

Derek, whose mind hadn't quite caught up with what just happened, smiled back. "No idea about what?" 

"That you..." Stiles stalled. He was reading this right, wasn't he? Maybe he wasn't. Heart pounding, he pulled away. "Uh, nothing. I, uhh. I have to go."

Derek pulled away too, frowning-- and then everything caught up with him. "Shit. Um, yeah. Okay-- that might be best."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, getting to his feet. He was halfway out of the door before he remembered the PlayStation, and by then it was too late. "I'll see you," he called over his shoulder, his voice unnaturally high, and slammed the door behind him.

Derek buried his face in his hands, mentally berating himself for several minutes before he managed to turn the television off. He went into the kitchen to dig out the last of his alcohol. He needed a drink. 

* * *

Stiles waited until he got home to call Scott, partly because he didn't want Derek to be able to hear even part of the conversation and partly because he couldn't stop his hands from shaking when he first reached his car. Once he was safely back in his bedroom, however, he put his phone to his ear, and started speaking as soon as Scott picked up. "Man, I think I just did something really stupid."

Scott blinked. "Stupid like fifth-grade monkey bars?"

"Worse," Stiles said. "I kissed Derek."

"Oh." Yeah,that might be worse. "Did he kiss back?"

”I thought so," Stiles answered. "Until he pulled back and looked at me like I'd started growing an extra head. And then he told me to leave."

"Wait, hold up-- _Derek_ told you to leave after you kissed him?" Scott demanded, confused. He thought he'd been reading the situation right, but if he hadn't....

"I was falling all over myself, and I was like 'Oh my god, I need to go,' and Derek was like, 'Yeah, that's for the best'. I was out of there so fast I even left my PlayStation behind. He wouldn't even look at me."

Scott frowned. "Well, that was a dick move," he declared. "Do you want me to go talk to him?" He was gonna do it anyway, but this way he'd know if Stiles would be pissed at him for it.

Stiles sighed. "It's not worth it," he said. "It was my mistake. But could you maybe go get my PlayStation back? I don't think I can stand to show my face over there for at least a month."

"I'll go over tomorrow," Scott promised. 

Stiles closed his eyes. "Thanks, man."

* * *

Derek didn't hear anything from the rest of the pack until the next day, and that came in the form of Scott texting him and informing the older wolf that he was coming to retrieve Stiles's PlayStation. So Derek left the loft door unlocked, which was his first mistake. His second was being too caught up in the Investigation Discovery channel to hear the door open.

Scott took Derek's distraction as a rare opportunity to sneak up on him, and did not hesitate when he got close enough to shout right in his ear. "Hey, asshole!"

Derek screeched, flailing his way off of the couch and hitting his head on the coffee table. "Fucking Jesus Christ, Scott!"

"It's no less than you deserve," Scott insisted, even as he held out a hand to help Derek up. "Sorry. You okay?"

Derek sighed, taking the proffered hand. "Thanks. And yeah, I suppose I do deserve that. Did Stiles tell you what happened?"

"Yeah," Scott said. "Bit of a mess, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Derek said glumly. "I didn't even mean to kiss him; probably freaked the hell out of him."

Scott blinked. "Well, yeah," he said slowly. "Sending out mixed signals like that, getting his hopes up? He's pretty cut up."

Derek blinked. "What do you mean, 'getting his hopes up'? He couldn’t _wait_ to get out of here!"

"You told him to leave," Scott said.

"No, he said he should leave, and I wasn't about to insist he stay if he wanted to go so badly," Derek argued. 

"Okay," Scott said, hands raised. He flopped down onto the couch and patted the seat next to him. "From the top."

Derek sighed but complied. "We were playing video games, and got hysterical over something funny that had happened. When we finally quit laughing, we were really close and ended up kissing. Then he freaked out, said he should go, and acted like he wanted to be anywhere _but_ here."

"And nothing happened between the kiss and him saying he had to go?" Scott asked. "Neither of you said anything?"

Derek frowned, thinking. "He said something about 'had no idea,' but then dismissed it."

"You kissed, and he said he had no idea, and then _you_ said..?"

"I asked what he was talking about, and that's when he freaked," Derek answered shortly. 

Scott raised his gaze to the heavens. "You're both _so_ stupid."

"How am I stupid?" Derek demanded. 

"You kissed him, and he _had no idea_?" Scott asked. "Where does that sentence end, Derek?"

"That I wanted to?" Derek hazarded. "That's not exactly an encouraging ending."

Scott sighed. "Think about this," he implored. "Did Stiles act like he was devastated, or disgusted?"

"I was a little more focused on the fact that I felt like he'd smacked me with a mountain ash branch wrapped in thorns," Derek snapped.

"So you snapped back," Scott surmised. "He said that he'd had no idea you had feelings for him, and you told him you didn't know what he was talking about."

"He said nothing about having feelings for me!"

"You didn't give him the chance! You shot him out of the water as soon as he opened his mouth! Or at least that's how he sees it."

Derek growled, frustrated. "Well what the hell am I supposed to do? He'd never let me finish explaining."

"Try," Scott said. "You've already proven that you're great at talking over him."

Derek glared at Scott. "Fine. I'll talk to him... soon."

" _Now_ ," Scott insisted. "On the way over here, I got a call from Deaton asking me to come into work to deal with an emergency. So, I don't have time to take Stiles' PlayStation back right now. And he _really_ wants that PlayStation."

"You're not subtle," Derek informed Scott. "At all. But okay."

Scott stared at him. "Why are you still here? Go!"

Derek pointed in the direction of the television. "I have no clue how to unplug that, and if this blows up in my face I at least want to give Stiles back his console."

Scott rolled his eyes, but went over to the TV anyway. "You're useless," he said. "I'm going to pack this away for you, but then you have to go straight over to Stiles' place."

"Fine," Derek said, feeling hope start to warm his chest--he forced it down though, unwilling to set himself up for potential disappointment. 

* * *

Half an hour later, Stiles heard a knock at his front door. He'd received a text from Scott about twenty minutes ago that just read 'Heads up', but absolutely nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Derek Hale standing on his porch, holding a bag in his hand and looking like he was about to vomit. "Are you dying again?" Stiles asked suspiciously, stepping back to let Derek in. 

"No, I don't think so," Derek answered. _At least not literally._ "Scott wanted me to bring your PlayStation by."

Stiles sighed. "Scott was supposed to bring it himself," he complained. "I thought it would be best if we had a little space."

Derek swallowed. "Why?"

"Because I didn't think you'd want to see me," Stiles answered honestly. "That and I figured I deserved some time to, y'know, lick my wounds and try to sew the tattered shreds of my dignity back together. And eat a lot of ice cream. Whatever."

"Why wouldn't I want to see you?" Derek asked, bemused.

Stiles gave Derek an incredulous look. "Well, someone in this room completely humiliated himself yesterday, and it definitely wasn't you," he said. "I figured you'd need some time to erase the incident from your memory. Either that or dampen the urge to hit me. Unsolicited kissing is never cool, man, I do know that."

"And if it wasn't unsolicited?" Derek challenged. "What if I wanted it just as much as you?"

Stiles' mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. "You-- You didn't," he stammered. "You looked _horrified_."

"Because I thought _you_ wouldn't want me to kiss you," Derek countered. "I didn't think you thought of me as anything but a friend."

"But you want more than that?" Stiles pushed.

"I-- yes. Yes I do."

Stiles blew out a breath. "Then maybe we should review the situation."

"Yeah?" Derek asked, hope growing despite his best efforts.

Stiles smiled, a soft and shy thing. "How about a do-over?" he suggested. "I really want to kiss you again."

Derek's smile matched Stiles's. "I'd like that."

Stiles moved closer, reaching up to touch Derek's face. "I think it went something like this," he murmured a second before their lips touched. Derek let Stiles control the kiss, tilting his head slightly so that they were bumping noses. This kiss was even better than their first; when it was over, Stiles couldn't fight the smile on his face, and he didn't want to. "Just so we're both on the same page," he said softly, "I like you. A lot."

Derek smiled. "I like you, too," he responded, just as softly. "Quite a bit, actually."

Stiles' smile turned into a grin. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Derek agreed, leaning in for another kiss just because he could. 

Stiles made a pleased sound and wrapped his arms around Derek's shoulders, all the better to pull him in for more kisses. "I've had enough drama to last me a lifetime," he said. "Can this be good? Can we be good together?"

"I think we can," Derek said with a smile. "I think we can be really good."

Stiles nodded, smiling back. "I think so, too."

* * *

Three months along and things were going great. Stiles was fairly confident that he was in love with Derek, and while they'd both agreed to take things slow they were talking about stepping things up in the intimacy department. It didn't matter really, Stiles was happy and he didn't need anything more from Derek, but that didn't mean that it wouldn't be nice... that it wouldn't mean everything to be with Derek like that. And if he was finally ready, if Derek was, then why not?

But now wasn't the time to be discussing that. They were in the middle of a movie night, Stiles and Derek curled up together and the rest of the pack all around them, and Malia had just walked in. Malia was definitely still pack, but she'd been kind of absent lately, especially since Derek and Stiles had gone public with their relationship. It had been something of a relief for Stiles at first, having the chance to move on without a reminder of the past right in his face, but after a while that changed. The pack didn't like having a member so far away, and Stiles felt bad that he was the one keeping her there, especially when everything was so good for him now. Which was why he'd taken the liberty of inviting her over tonight.

The room had fallen eerily silent, save for _Captain America_ playing in the background, the second Malia had walked in, but Stiles ignored the way Derek had tensed beside him and turned to her with a smile. "Hey Malia," he said warmly. "It's good to see you. Do you wanna sit down?"

Derek watched Malia closely-- not meanly, but just trying to gauge her mood-- as she nodded, stepping further into the living room. "Hi Stiles, Derek," she said politely. "Hey everyone."

"Hi Malia," Derek said, just as politely-- Stiles had told him he'd invited Malia over tonight, and he wasn't going to make things go south; he and Stiles had both talked about it, and while Derek still wasn't quite ready to forgive Malia for what she'd done and how carelessly she'd treated Stiles, he was willing to work towards that.

"Pizza's on its way," Stiles offered. "Can I get you a drink?"

"Um, sweet tea or diet coke, if you have it," Malia said, settling onto the floor next to Scott and Kira, feeling more settled the closer she was to her alpha.

Stiles nodded and got to his feet, giving Derek a little smile before heading into the kitchen.

Derek smiled back, settling further onto the couch. "So what've you been up to, Malia?"

"Not a lot," Malia answered, avoiding Derek's gaze. "I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. I--" She cut herself off as Stiles returned to the room, and managed a weak smile of thanks when he passed her a diet Coke.

"Everything okay?" Stiles asked once he'd resumed his seat beside Derek.

Malia only had eyes for the can in her hands.

Derek gave Stiles a small shrug-- he'd just been trying to make polite conversation. 

There wasn't a whole lot Stiles could do, but he tossed Malia a bag of chips and let things lie for now. Maybe she just needed some time, and they had most of the movie and four pizzas to get through.

* * *

Malia was quiet for the rest of the night, but just as Stiles had expected, when the evening drew to a close she lingered while the rest of the pack got ready to leave. They all said their goodbyes and promised to meet again soon, but it wasn't until Stiles, Derek and Malia were the only ones left behind that Malia spoke up.

"I just wanted to say congratulations," she said, offering the couple an uncertain smile.

Derek was surprised, but he smiled back. "Thank you."

Stiles was even more taken aback than Derek. "Yeah," he said, nodding. "Thank you. That means a lot."

Malia's smile widened a little. "For what it's worth, I think you two are good for each other," she said before leaving.

Derek watched her go. "She's maturing," he mused. "Good."

Stiles smiled and leaned into Derek. "I think she'll be okay," he said.

"Yeah," Derek agreed, slipping an arm around Stiles. "And so will we."


End file.
